Page 28 of A Different Impression

The gentlemen escorted the ladies to Longbourn and were pleased to receive an invitation to lunch. Darcy looked forward to another opportunity to spend time with Elizabeth—and to challenging her in chess after the midday meal.

Having travelled by carriage, the rest of the Bennets had arrived ahead of the two couples and were already gathered in the drawing room. Jane and Elizabeth escorted the gentlemen into the house, greetings were exchanged, and before long, the meal was announced.

Luncheon was a pleasant enough meal. Elizabeth and Darcy engaged Mr Bennet in conversation about books and chess. At the other end of the table, Jane and Mr Bingley spoke almost exclusively to each other, with Mary and Mrs Bennet occasionally joining in.

When the meal concluded, they moved into the drawing room. Mr Bennet’s presence in the room led Mrs Bennet to act in a more subdued manner, as did the absence of Kitty and Lydia from the family party. The conversation was a continuation of that at the meal, although, on occasion, it broadened to include everyone gathered in the room. Still, Mrs Bennet appeared increasingly restless as the conversation lingered on books, estates, and chess rather than neighbourhood gossip, ribbons, or lace.

Soon, however, Darcy reminded Bennet and Elizabeth of his promised chess match with Elizabeth. The game lasted a considerable amount of time before Elizabeth managed to place Darcy in checkmate, but it was a near thing.

She grinned broadly at him when the game was over, and he grinned back, feeling a measure of pride in the challenge. Her smile dimmed when she heard her mother’s whispered reprimand for not allowing him to win. “No man likes a woman who is smarter than he, Lizzy,” she whispered harshly. “You will never catch a man beating him in men’s games like chess.”

“Madam,” Darcy said, drawing himself up to his full height. “I admire Miss Elizabeth because she was not willing to let me defeat her and because she is capable of challenging me in this and other areas. I do not know where you got the idea that men want foolish wives, but I assure you, men of quality do not, and many of my acquaintances would prefer a wife with whom they can share an intelligent conversation. By beating me in chess, Miss Elizabeth has shown herself as more deserving of my attention, not less. I believe my biggest challenge will be to convince her that I am worthy of her attention.”

Mrs Bennet sputtered before slumping in her seat and then calling loudly for salts. Bennet shook his head sadly before moving to assist his wife from her seat. “If you will excuse me, sirs, my wife has taken ill, and I will need to escort her to her room to rest. She will not be joining us again this afternoon.”

Mrs Bennet looked genuinely taken aback by her husband’s response. Darcy had the distinct impression that such firmness was something she had not expected from him.

A general sigh of relief seemed to pass through the room once Mrs Bennet was gone. The entire group retreated to the garden for a short walk in the warmth of the afternoon before returning for tea.

Mr Bennet appeared some time later. Whatever had passed upstairs, Mrs Bennet did not reappear, and the house seemed markedly quieter for her absence.

After taking tea together and one more game of chess between Darcy and Elizabeth, the gentlemen departed just as the sun began to set. Darcy considered the day a success and felt his courtship was proceeding well.

Although he did not relish the idea of Mrs Bennet as his mother-in-law, given her behaviour towards Elizabeth, he wondered how frequently Elizabeth would desire to be in the company of her mother. He hoped the steps Bennet was taking would help the two youngest and even, perhaps, Mrs Bennet, but rather doubted that Mrs Bennet would change.

CHAPTER 12

The Consequences of Impulse

Mr Bennet climbed the stairs to the old schoolroom after breakfast, as he had each morning since Lydia’s confinement had begun. Thus far, the wilful girl had tested every boundary he had set.

Only a few days before, she had attempted to force her way from the room when the maid brought up her supper. The tray had fallen, shattering the crockery, and the maid, Sally, had only narrowly escaped injury. Lydia had then demanded not only her freedom, but permission to dine with the family.

The commotion had drawn Bennet and both Mr and Mrs Hill upstairs. As soon as she saw her father, she cried, “This is monstrous unfair! I am not a child, Papa. I ought to be allowed to dine with everyone else!” To emphasise her point, she had stomped her foot and stood glaring at the Hills who were ascertaining that Sally was well.

Once he learnt how the accident had occurred, he insisted Lydia help clean the mess she had made and informed her that she would receive no replacement tray.

“You will send me to bed without supper?” she had shrieked. “But I am hungry!”

“Then you will remember that the next time you choose to overturn your meal,” he had replied. Her next tray, he told her, would be breakfast.

Since then, he had made certain two servants accompanied each tray—one to deliver the food and the other to prevent another attempted escape. One might have thought he was guarding the most recalcitrant prisoner in England rather than his own wilful fifteen-year-old daughter.

Each morning he brought Lydia a book and an assignment before leaving her to her studies. Whether she actually completed the reading remained doubtful, but he did ask her a few questions about what she read.

“History is excessively dull,” she had complained only yesterday, pushing the book away after looking at it for a moment or two. “I do not see why I must read about dead people when there are officers coming to Meryton. I cannot believe you still have me locked away in here when I could be flirting with the officers.”

“That sentence alone convinces me the confinement was necessary,” Bennet had said. “You will remain here until a school can be found for you.”

Although she had not improved enough to satisfy him, he noted with some satisfaction that she had at least ceased openly defying him. Mr Hill reported that, following the incident with supper, she no longer refused to help the maid clean the room. Neither had she damaged the books he lent her. It was a small improvement, but one he intended to encourage.

On this day, he paused outside the schoolroom door before unlocking it.

“I have brought your mother with me today,” he said as he stepped inside. “Perhaps together we can settle a few misconceptions that the two of you seem to have formed.”

“You must have decided to allow my dear Lydia to be ‘out’ once again, sir,” Mrs Bennet said, not even waiting to be seated.

“No, I have not,” he said, then gestured towards the table intended for lessons. “Sit down, both of you.”